


Gold

by aderyn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Return, Reunion, The Adventure of the Empty House, genius and gossip and headlines and treasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:09:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn/pseuds/aderyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They want dirt; they get gold.</p>
<p>What was it like to die, and to come back?  What is it like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold

**Author's Note:**

> This is for quarryquest and her layers of London.  
> And [PFG](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lizeckhart/pseuds/professorfangirl), who wants Sherlock to come back in spring.

**  
**“ _oh wanderer back from break,_

_all your attention focused…”—Jorie Graham,”The Guardian Angel of the Private Life”_ ****  
  


 

They want dirt; they get gold.  
  
Aurum, the glow of sunrise, shining and malleable, is all at once Sherlock talking, hands-locked John, the press flocked close by the black door.  
  
 _What was it like to die, and to come back?_   What is it like.  
  
Whatever they write it won’t be this:  
  
There were no birds in London while you were gone.  
  
There were no buds.  
  
Now the sun breaks and the buds break and the goldfinch shatters singing over your bent head, a sunshower, a falling of keys and coins and clues, those candles that gutter impossibly _up._  
  
It isn't as though you didn't leave, no; but now the mud-shucked city with its genius gives light, and Baker, _idiot romantic_ , blooms again.

*******

The headlines say fraud, say wonder, mark the alchemical pull of the weather.

There’s talk and there’s breath, an oscillation. There’s walking the city panning for spirits.

He met a ghost on its way home, a turning, ecto- or plasm a bright vein, a fierce fucking flake of fallen and found.

*******

Oh, John thinks. Alarm calls. The hungry press of the curious.

But no, his heart new-set like a gem.

Oh, god.  There’s a lot to it, this animus, this heat. 

Going inside for the first time, again,

he wiped the grime from Sherlock’s face, uncovered the gleam beneath.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Quarryquest sent me her lovely photo links-- 'Sherlock talking, hands-locked John..." (tagged-shooting, Season 3)  
> [By the door](https://plus.google.com/photos/114730461866414848067/albums/5865365729263054689/5865368702831297090?banner=pwa)
> 
> [By the door](https://plus.google.com/photos/114730461866414848067/albums/5865365729263054689/5865368231993639986?banner=pwa).


End file.
